Never in my entire life, did I imagine that I turning 25 would be monumental. I mean, in some ways unconsciously I think I dreaded turning 25. There is something about turning quarter a century old that sets the benchmark, a certain expectation of how one should be. I suppose, I felt that in the eye of the society, I am not very accomplished. At quarter a century old, neither am I working, nor I am I in a long-term romantic relationship or working towards marriage. I have accomplished none of these. At quarter a century old, I am still studying, away from home, I am not dating anyone, or on my way to dating or being in a relationship. In the eye of the society, and in my own eyes, turning 25 was absolutely meaningless. There isn’t really anything to celebrate, I thought. No accomplishments to reflect on, no milestones. Just me. Plain me, turning 25.

I hadn’t seen it coming, this huge life changing learning that was about to take place just a week before my turning 25, over a 40 minutes conversation.

As I was growing up, I understood what feminineness was about and it came to me quite naturally. When I was in my teens, in order to fit in, I avoided expressing my feminine side, because all my close girlfriends at that age were not as feminine. However, as I grew, I realised that being feminine was something that was already wired in my body and personality. It was something that came naturally, and I learned to be comfortable with my own femininity.

What seemed to have escaped my thought process was how feminineness was different from womanhood. I was comfortable expressing feminineness but not womanhood. Womanhood is the very design of a woman, her body complemented by her gentle spirit and caring mind. To a certain extent, I understood womanhood, but I didn’t realise how inhibited I was in expressing my own womanhood due to scepticisms and scars. Growing up in a male-dominated society, where woman are often treated as second class citizens, and objectified as one pleased with no sense of guilt, I was always extra cautious with the way I carried myself, cautious with my sense of dressing, cautious in my body language with my guy friends, cautious about the topic of conversation with my guy friends. In short, I had an obsessive compulsive disorder when it came to my relationship with men, because I didn’t want to give them any chance of objectifying or looking down on me. In short, my effort of avoiding being objectified led to the suppression of the innate expression of my very womanhood.

You see, for some odd reason (perhaps it wasn’t all that odd), I thought that women are objectified because of their womanhood. The more one expressed their womanhood, in their body, mind and spirit, the more prone they were to being objectified. I wish I understood earlier that women are objectified not because they express their womanhood, but simply because they are women.

If it wasn’t for that open, honest conversation that took place, I would have never come to realise that all these while, I have suppressed my womanhood, in my effort of preventing myself from being objectified. I was never comfortable with the idea of being a woman (expressing my womanhood), because I understood deep down, that being a woman, meant that I had the great risk of being objectified, just for being me.

Sorry boys, I don’t mean to be biased. I do agree there are men out there who have learned the art of continence and exercise respect for women by not objectifying them, but I grew watching many men who do not view objectification of women as something wrong.

So, I grew up being a woman who was comfortable in expressing her feminineness (which is not the trait that makes a woman objectifiable) but never her womanhood.

It was just a few days before turning 25, that it dawned upon me, that the Lord created and designed me to be a woman, in every sense of the word. It was His plan for me from the beginning. He put in deliberate care and detail in His formation of me, as a person, and especially a woman, so that I can learn to be a woman, the Lord designed me to be. All those years studying theology of the body, relationship between man and woman according to the Lord’s design, the gift of sexuality, sexual desires, marriage, all these things that have always fascinated me and inspired me, the Lord revealed them to prepare me for this moment, when He could teach me to simply be the woman He had designed me to be, and to be comfortable doing it.

At the brink of turning 25, He taught me the essence of womanhood, and called me to embrace it.  He taught me the art of being a woman, and now He calls me to live it out with courage in every sense of the word. He called me out of my fear of objectification, into a space of trust, faith and hope.

For the first time in 25 years, I understand my calling to be a woman, and I embrace it as the Lord designed it. For the first time in 25 years, I am comfortable being a woman, and expressing my womanhood. For the first time in 25 years, I feel more like myself than I have ever been. For the first time in 25 years, I am truly a woman, in every graspable form I can be, and for this moment, I can only respond with silent awe and adoration of the Creator, who created me, blessed me, designed me, inspired me, moulded me and brought me here in the first place.

A woman I am, a woman I shall be.

In my opinion, the very epitome of womanhood